Never Ending Supernatural Story
by Dianna Wickham
Summary: This story begins with a lonely chubby 12 year old boy named Samuel Winchester and the strange book that draws him into the beautiful but doomed world of Fantastica.
1. Chapter 1

**Never Ending Supernatural Story**

Dianna Wickham

Disclaimer: Do not own Supernatural or The Neverending Story by Michael Ende (RIP)

Summary: This story begins with a lonely chubby 12 year old boy named Samuel Winchester and the strange book that draws him into the beautiful but doomed world of Fantastica.

Chapter 1

Fantastica in Danger

Carl Conrad Coreander Old Books read in fancy faded lettering across the store window. Sam Winchester peaked in between the letters, eyeing the mounds of books inside wistfully. It had been two weeks since they moved here to New York, two weeks that Sam has barely seen his dad as he was engrossed in his latest hunt for wear wolves. The lunar cycle would be perfect the next couple nights, so Sam expected not to see his father at all. And in the meantime, now that he was considered old enough, Sam was left to his own devices. Since school had finished for the summer that left the only thing Sam did outside of school. With determination, Sam made his way into the old book shop. Meandering his way through familiar beloved titles, Sam began the search for something new.

"Goodness gracious!" There came an unexpected exclamation from behind Sam, making the untried young hunter jump.

Apparently someone was sitting behind one of the many mounds of books in one of those faded chairs famous for being in the television series Mystery Theater. An old man with a pipe sat there with a worn book in his hands, blinking owlishly at him through his coke bottle frames. The man frowned, "listen my boy, I can't abide children. I know it's the style nowadays to make a terrible fuss over you—but, I don't go for it. I simply have no use for children. As far as I'm concerned, they're no good for anything but screaming, torturing people, breaking things, smearing books with jam and tearing the pages. It never dawns on them that grown-ups may also have their troubles and cares. I'm only telling you this so you'll know where you're at. Any-way, I have no children's books and I wouldn't sell you the other kind. So now we understand each other, I hope!"

The man made an impassioned harrumph sound before continuing with his reading.

Sam blinked a few times, unsure of what to do. He really wanted to buy a book… but this man with the attitude was dismissing him because he was a child. Sam, not for the first time, wished he had someone bigger with him to stick up for him when words failed.

Sam cleared his throat uncertainly.

The man looked up with consternated frown, "you're still here?"

"I just wanted to say, not all children are like that." Sam said in a quiet meek voice.

The man harrumphed again, resting his book on the arm chair so that he could level his gaze at the squirming pudgy twelve-year old.

"And I suppose you're the admirable exception?"

Sam lowered his gaze, "I'm just looking for a book, mister… and I don't read children books, I haven't for a long time."

The man looked at the boy critically, "What's your name kid?"

"Samuel Winchester." The boy stated promptly, glancing up hopefully.

"A rather odd name."

"Like Carl Conrad Coreander is any better…" Sam muttered.

The man leaned forward sharply in agitation, "what was that?"

"Nothing." Sam looked away again.

"Why aren't you out playing with your hooligan friends, Sam Winchester, instead of pestering me?"

"I don't have any friends." Sam hazel brown eyes were sad.

"And why is that?" The man asked curiously.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, and adjusted his backpack, before brushing his shaggy brown hair back from his eyes and sticking his hands into his jean pockets.

"Dunno. I just moved here, but everyone thinks I'm a freak."

"Why do you suppose they think you a freak?" The man's voice was not harsh, nor was it gentle.

Sam shrugged again, tracing the same path with nervous hands that he took earlier at the gesture.

"Are you athletic?"

Sam shook his head, glancing down guiltily at his chubbiness. Many times did he hear the harsh commanding words of his father, telling him over and over of his disappointment at Sam's clumsiness.

"I suppose you're a genius then, always know the answers and raising your hand in class." The man seemed to be enjoying classifying the boy before him.

Sam again shook his head, he didn't consider himself to be a genius and he rarely raised his hand in class. Raising your hand drew attention to you, and often gave cause for ridicule.

The man became disgruntled again, "then what are you good at?"

Sam shrugged, "I like to read…"

The man gave a nod of acknowledgment, being a bookstore owner; he found no fault in that.

"What is it that you like to read then?"

Sam looked around at the large book shelves packed with old books and the stacks of books to his left and to his right. Close enough on both sides to reach out and touch.

It was a comfortable familiar feeling.

"I guess I like them all." Sam stated finally after a long moment of silence.

"All? You seem like the type to like fantasies about vampires, wear wolves, and ghosts… isn't that what most little boys read nowadays?"

"I see enough of that outside of books; don't need to read about it." The boy muttered meekly to himself.

"What was that boy, speak up!" The man gave off yet another disgruntled harrumph before touching the book at his side, as if intending to pick it up, but just then the phone rang. With some difficulty, Mr. Coreander pulled himself up out of the armchair and made his way into the back to answer the phone. A moment later, Sam could hear the quiet mumbles of phone conversations. The boy fidgeted, wondering if he should leave after all. The little pocket money he had could be put to better use.

Sam's eyes fell to the vacated spot that the old man had sat. Resting innocently on the armchair was the forgotten book that the old man had been reading when Sam came in. Curious, Sam moved closer to study the cover. It was a strange book with aged brown leather covering that shimmered in the light like silk, bound to the front was a metal adornment of two snakes, gold and silver, biting each others tail in a never ending loop. The title read; the Never Ending Story. Sam felt a shock of energy course through him, before being filled with an overwhelming need to reach out and stroke the spine of the old book. To put to memory the feel of the old book, to crack it open and breathe in its musty pages before devouring its contents.

Sam was positive that whatever story this book contained, Sam was meant to read it. But the boy knew that the old man would not part with what was obviously a very expensive and valuable old book that was possibly one of a kind to a twelve year old with little pocket money. Now normally Sam considered himself to be an honest boy, but he was no stranger to the illegal thanks to his father's teachings. Besides, Sam could always return the book when he was done. Nodding to himself in decision, he crept forward like the thief that he now was, and snatched the book from the chair and slipping it quickly into his ready backpack. Hearing that the old man was still on the phone, Sam made quickly for the door to the chaotic outside world.

**

TBC

A/N: Well, what do you think? Reviews I thrive on… and for those who are thinking it, I don't believe Sam to be OC here, after all he is portrayed as the self proclaimed 'Sammy is a chubby twelve year old.' And we already knew that Sam was a bibliophile as well as a computer nerd. Next chapter we get to see Dean! YAY! I relate to him better to be honest, all though I understand the twelve year old Sam.

Cast List so far:

Carl Conrad Coreander: The Author Michael Ende

Bastian Bux: Sam Winchester

Atreyu: Dean Winchester

Carion the centaur: Bobby Singer

Falcor the luck dragon: Sasha Kelly the Incubus from Crimson1 (He'll be his glorious Incubus self and not a dragon.)

Artax; Atreyu faithful steed: The Impala

I take suggestions, but I've already decided to put myself and my roommate in the parts of the helpful gnomes at the Oracle. It was just too perfect to resist. Thank you. =c)


	2. Chapter 2

Sam found himself once more inside the dinky two bed- one room motel where they were staying, the depressing atmosphere with its blank walls and its mystery stains again weighed down heavily on his mind. The only additional accessories from the required furniture were an oval wall mirror, a TV that was halfway to broken, and a questionable bear skinned rug. Sam patted the large lump in his backpack consolingly; now that he had a distraction he could bare the solitary confinement.

Setting his backpack down on the old two-seater table, Sam wondered into the small kitchen area for a snack. Sighing, he realized dad forgot to buy food again and could only find some lucky charms and a can of spaghetti O's. Snagging the box of cereal Sam sat down at the table and pulled out the stolen book.

The afternoon light coming in from the rooms only window spread out across the cover making the snakes sparkle and come alive. Sam reverently fingered the gold and silver snakes, already detecting the heat from the sunlight warming the adornment. Eagerly Sam opened the book and peered down at the first page where written in extravagant letters were the words: Never Ending Story… but oddly enough the authors name was absent. Flipping to the next page to the beginning of the first chapter, Sam was impressed by the left side page that contained an ornate drawing of the first letter that began the sentence on the right side page. Settling himself, Sam let himself become immersed in his imagination.

**

**A**ll the beasts in the Howling forest were safe in their caves, nests, and burrows. In which the little will-o'-the-wisp was eternally grateful, being lost and frantic in the midnight storm. Alan J Corbett was the little ball of light's name, and it was an odd thing indeed for a will-o'-the-wisp to lose there way, when normally they were the cause of others losing theirs. But tonight Corbett was on a mission on behalf of his people, hence the reason for being so far from home and half way across Fantasia bearing the white flag of a messenger. Corbett stopped for a moment, his tiny body huddling on the limb of an old oak tree. Up ahead he could make out a campfire. Should he risk it? Corbett wondered, after all, he knew the general location of his destination the Ivory Tower- who didn't? But if getting directions could save him precious minutes, then all the better. Corbett leaped to the next tree, getting closer to a clearing where he could hear voices coming from. Beside the campfire was a peculiar sight, a Rock Chewer being the most noticeable sitting next to a Tiny on a snail and a Night-Hob.

"Hello the camp!" Corbett's little voice trilled out. It was better to announce his intentions straight off or the Night-Hob might try to eat him or heaven forbid the Rock Chewer might accidentally sit on him. Corbett also noticed the strangers bore the white messenger flag.

"Why hello bright one," the Night-Hob greeted enthusiastically, "okay everyone quit the chatter." The Night-Hob seemed to have failed to notice that everyone has already quieted, a large bat near by let out an indignant squeak before falling back asleep hanging upside down in a tree.

"Lot's of traffic around tonight, Ed." The Tiny commented.

"Yes, shall we make introductions once more my friend?" Without waiting for a reply from the Tiny, the Night-Hob stepped forward and gestured dramatically.

"My name is Ed Zeddmore and that bat you see over there is my adopted sister Maggie."

The bat opened one eye at the sound of her name, but being blind she didn't see anything so went back to sleep. Ed continued pompously, "the Tiny you see to my right is Harry Spengler and his faithful racing snail." The Tiny gave a nod in acknowledgment.

"And last but not least our comrade Kenny Spruce a Rock Chewer."

The giant rock creature spoke for the first time, startling the will-o'-the-wisp with his deep rumbling voice. "Actually Ed I am only ½ Rock Chewer, I am also ¼ Pooka, ¼ centaur, ¼ vampire, and ¼ spectral."

"Whatever Chewy… and what would your name be, bright one?" The Night-Hob smiled charmingly.

"Corbett the Will-o'-the-wisp." Corbett couldn't help but smile back, forgetting temporarily that Night-Hobs occasionally ate his kind.

"And, what may I ask brings you out and about so late in this treacherous forest?" The Night-Hob asked pleasantly.

"I'm on a mission; I have a message of most importance for the child-like Empress from my people." Corbett felt his glow brighten under the Night-Hob's attentive gaze.

The Night-Hob smiled at his companions, "what a coincidence, we also carry a message for the child-like Empress. Maybe we should share messages; after all we could be carrying the same message… Stranger things have happened."

Corbett's smile faltered, "…I don't know if I should."

The Night-Hob stood as if he was performing before an audience, "let me go out on a limb then. I'm going to say you carry a message about the Nothingness."

"How did you know?" Corbett asked wide eyed.

"Because we too carry the same message, of a vast nothingness spreading out and consuming our land, why the Kinko's where Harry and I work is now… no more. And that's not the least of it, every messenger that has stopped by this campfire this night have reported the same thing. The nothingness is everywhere, all over Fantasia."

"Have you seen what it looks like?" Corbett asked breathlessly.

Harry the Tiny spoke up in an ominous voice, "no one has seen it… it's like being blind, there is simply nothing there. And for those who get too close… they are never seen again."

"Well, what are you sitting around here for? We have to report this to the child-like Empress; some thing has got to be done!" Corbett said passionately.

"No can do bright one, it's too dark to carry on this night." Ed shook his head in a negative-tory gesture. The rest of the group sided with Ed, huddling closer to the campfire.

Corbett's little frame drooped sadly, before he suddenly perked up with an epiphany.

"Wait, you can use my light to see by! Traveling together we can get there in no time, if you know the way!"

Ed appeared contemplative, stroking his short beard. "That seems very doable my friend, what a most excellent suggestion!"

The will-o'-the-wisp glowed under the compliment.

With great haste, they were all off together for the Ivory Tower to warn the child-like Empress. What followed for the group of misfits was an interesting tale, but that's another story for a different time.

Meanwhile, at the Ivory tower a crowd of assorted doctors gathered together to consult each other in the child-like Empress's waiting room. What most of Fantasia did not know at the moment was that the child-like Empress was aware of the crisis that has befallen Fantasia but was gravely ill with a mysterious illness. Four hundred and ninety nine doctors of an assortment of species and specialties had already examined the child-like Empress, but without solid conclusion. They simply did not know what was affecting her, let alone the cure. She simply seemed to be fading away, growing weaker by the day. At this time, she was being seen by the wisest one of them all, Bobby Singer the centaur.

Just then, the doors to the child-like Empress's bedroom opened and Bobby came out looking extremely weary. One of the doctors noticed right away with a gasp that draped around Bobby's neck was AURYN, the symbol of the child-like Empress's authority. Wearing it meant Bobby now spoke in the name of the child-like Empress.

"What has happened?" They asked him frantically.

Bobby's head bowed down, his face distorted with shadows. "It is as I feared; the child-like Empress is dying and cannot save us from the nothingness. What's worse, if she dies… all of Fantasia will cease to exist."

Everyone started talking anxiously with their neighbor, creating a restless buzz of noise in the air. Bobby held up a hand and silence fell.

"I must seek out a warrior from the golden plains; he will go on a quest and AURYN will be his to guide and protect him. He is our only hope now… I must hurry."

One of the doctors stepped forward before Bobby could make his leave, "did the child-like Empress give you the name of this warrior?"

Bobby turned partially to the breathlessly waiting crowd and spoke only two words before galloping out of the waiting room.

"Dean Winchester."

TBC

**

A/N: Love it? Hate it? Confused because it doesn't exactly match up with the movie? That's because I'm going off the book… a lot more detail that way. Review, the pace will really pick up from here, and once I start writing in Dean's voice… hehe, oh the fun I will have. Still taking suggestions on cast if you have any, please put it in your review.

Thank you for your support!


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